Behind the Wall
by DesperateWhisper
Summary: This is the story of a woman who was kidnapped seven years ago, a bold, imaginative five year old girl who didn't know the difference between fantasy and reality, and the twelve by twelve foot room that held the both of them.


_I wanna fit in to the perfect space,  
_

_feel natural and safe in a volatile place._

_And I wanna grow old without the pain,_

_give my body back to the earth and not complain._

_~The Perfect Space - The Avett Brothers~_

* * *

_Week number whatever, day number who-the-fuck-cares._

It's a Monday today. I can see the sun shining from the small skylight. Without another thought, I walk towards the closet and open it, seeing my daughter curled up against the wall, clutching a dirty house slipper against her chest.

She said that it was fluffy, like a cat. She called it Sandy.

"Wake up, Anna," I told her, crouching down and touching her shoulder. She opened one eye before squeezing it shut, curling further into a ball. She murmured something into the slipper.

"What did you say?" I asked, picking her up from her position on the floor and hugging her close. She accidentally dropped the slipper; I picked it up before she thinks she killed Sandy.

"Is Hans still here?" She asked, her voice quiet. He wasn't allowed to see her; I made that very clear. That's why she sleeps in the closet. He doesn't deserve to see her.

"He leaves early. You want to try figuring out the passcode before breakfast?" I asked. It was one of our games. We would each take a turn at guessing the six digit code that kept us from the outside world.

Before I had Anna, I used to stay by the door, waiting for Hans to come home, attempting to break free from my prison while the door was still open. But of course, all my attempts, no matter how well I plan them out, were futile. Explaining why I was still here.

I hate it here.

Fuckin' hate it.

Anna nodded, smiling a bit. I never told her stories about the outside world. She thinks it's all make believe. The TV is real. The ratty old couch is real. The microwave, the slipper-cat, the coats in the closet; everything that she can see or touch is real.

She doesn't think what's in the TV is real. She doesn't think that grass or musical instruments or flowers are real. She thinks it's all pretend. It's all from TV.

And it kills me that she might never be able to see those things.

We try two combinations this time.I let her press the numbers. She frowned when the light went red and she sullenly cried out 'beep' for each try.

We'll try again tomorrow.

We slide towards the counter and stove in our socks; Anna said we were like skating on ice like what she saw on TV but she doesn't think it's real.

We were low on groceries, but I had no nerve to remind Hans about that. We settled for stale cereal and nearly spoiled milk. Anna made faces but didn't complain. She knew better than that.

After breakfast, we glided around the room a little more before we both fell down on the bed, laughing a bit. With a small sigh, I made myself comfortable on it, lying on my side, and my daughter followed suit, snuggling closer to me.

She unceremoniously lifted my shirt up and suckled on my left breast. I didn't stop her; I had no reason to. Maybe in a month, I'll tell her to stop.

"Mama," She said. I pulled down my shirt.

"I'm not done." She sulked, her eyebrows furrowing.

"You talked. That meant you were done." I deadpanned, kissing her forehead. "I remember when you were still little; you didn't talk much."

"I'm still little now," Anna protested. "You're bigger than me. Three times bigger."

"But before, I used to be five or six times bigger than you." I told her. She scrunched her nose. "And I remember when you couldn't even talk at all."

"'Cause I was in your tummy." Anna said, lifting my shirt again, but only slightly, to poke my pale stomach. I let my stomach bloat at her touch before contracting it, making her laugh.

"That's right." I confirmed. Before I could do anything, She hopped off the bed and pulled on the duvet. "What are you doing?"

"It's snow," she said, spreading the duvet flat on the ground so it was covering a good part of the floor. "Like on TV."

Ah.

We've played this before.

The place depended on the color of the duvet. If it was white, we would play on snow. If it was blue, we were swimming in the ocean. If it was green, we would be enjoying a picnic on the grass.

"Mama, it's so cold!" Anna shivered, standing in the middle of the duvet.

"Oh, but I thought you had your boots on," I said, referring to her little socks. She stomped them around the duvet, giggling as she did.

So adorable.

"I do!" She announced proudly. She ducked down and went under the mattress, pushing out a shoebox before emerging out herself.

"Mama, we can make snowman, look!" She grinned, taking the pillows from the bed and stacking three of them. She then pulled out crumpled balls of fast food menus, which I taped to the pillow snowman to make the buttons, the mouth and the eyes. She rolled a real estate flyer into a cone shape, taping it up and sticking it between the top two pillows.

"Mama, he doesn't have arms!" She said, digging through her little shoebox in hopes of finding something. I knelt down behind the pillow snowman and held my arms out so it looked like they were from the snowman.

"Hi, I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs," I said in a goofy voice. Anna squealed in delight before running towards the pillow snowman, hugging it carefully so as not to tip it over. I hugged her with the pillows in between us.

"I love you, Olaf!" She exclaimed, hugging the pillow snowman tighter.

* * *

I heard Hans' car being parked in the driveway. He slammed his door loudly and I could hear him entering the code.

At this, I ran to Anna who was sitting down I front of the TV, watching the discovery channel. Our mess from the day had been cleaned up and hidden either inside the closet or under the bed.

"Anna, in the closet now. He's here." I said urgently, and she quickly turned off the TV before running towards the closet, going to the farthest end and hugging her knees to her chest.

"Aww, Elsa, it's been years. You really wouldn't let me see her?" Hans teased by the door, closing it and walking towards me. I slammed the closet shut.

"Not a chance." I said fiercely. He smirked.

"But I bought her a toy." He said, and I could feel Anna's interest spike up from inside the closet. I could imagine her pressing her face against the closet door, peeking through the slits.

"I'll give it to her tomorrow."

"Fine." He said, turning around. He took shoes and socks off before his buttons down and trousers, leaving him clad only in his boxers. He layer down on the bed; the bed frame squeaked.

"What are you waiting for?" Hans said, his eyes lustful and expecting. With a soft shudder, I made my way to the other side of the bed. By the time I lie down, he assaults my body with hot kisses on my neck and shoulders.

He never went for my face.

He never looked me in the eye.

Good.

"Do I have to do everything by myself," He grunted as he quickly discarded my clothing to the floor, removed his boxers, hastily wrapped his 'thing' in a condom before immediately thrusting into me like he was in a frenzy.

I stayed still.

I was unwilling.

I fucking hated this.

I didn't pay attention to the hot breath against my neck or the quick pace of the demented man who kidnapped me years ago.

I counted the number of squeaks and groans the bed frame made with every thrust. I imagine Anna counting the squeaks, imagining little mice hiding under the bed having a role call.

Hans groaned, staying still for a while before slipping out of me, removing the condom and replacing his boxers. I followed suit, picking my clothes from the floor and quickly put them on.

I wiped his saliva off my neck and shoulders.

Disgusting little shit.

I laid back down on the bed, my back facing him. He wrapped his arm around my waist. I shivered; he pulled me closer.

Maybe tomorrow Anna and I will figure out the code.

* * *

**This has been in my mind for a while, so instead of another installment of 'Little Love', you got this. This has been heavily inspired by the novel 'Room' by Emma Donoghue. If you haven't read that yet, I suggest you do. **

**Please do tell me what you think. Wishing you all the best! **


End file.
